Super Duper GalaCity
by AoSora.Minami
Summary: In a world where Geostigma still runs rampant and the memories of Kadaj and Sephiroth are still at hand, a group of Remnants threaten to resurrect the fallen SOLDIER and take control while Deepground destroys all in their path.
1. Stingy

**A/N: Let me explain the significance of the title. I am calling it Super Duper Gala-City because it often hints at or takes place in the Forgotten City located just beyond the Sleeping Forest on the Icicle Continent north of the Midgar Area. Well, that about covers the City part of the title. As for the Super Duper Gala- part of the title, all of that really hints at a song by LM.C. Well, that and the Materia found and used throughout. There are many other things, such as love and conflict as well. **

**Super Duper Gala-****City represents hardship, the Forgotten City, strange mysteries, love, sadness, incompetence, betrayal, and a really bad acid trip.**

_**I WILL be using BOTH Faunus AND Vassal Valentine for this. But Faunus won't come until later.**_

_**Marlene's Narration from FF7: AC...**_  
"The Lifestream. That's what we call the river of life that circles our planet giving life to the world and everything in it. The Shinra Electric Power Company discovered a way to use the Lifestream as an energy source. Because of Shinra's energy, we were able to live very comfortable lives. But wasn't that because we were taking away from the planet's life? A lot of people thought so. Shinra used their power to try and stop anybody who got in their way. Shinra had a special group of warriors called SOLDIER, and all of the SOLDIERs had Jenova cells put inside of them. Jenova was a calamity that fell from the sky a long, long time ago and tried to destroy the planet. Anyway, there was one SOLDIER named Sephiroth who was smarter than the rest. When he found out about the terrible experiments that made him, he began to hate Shinra, and then, over time, he began to hate everything. Shinra and the people against them, Sephiroth, who hated the planet so much he wanted to make it go away, and the people who tried to stop him. There were a lot of battles. For every battle, there was more sadness. Someone I love went back to the Lifestream, too. And then it came - The chosen day. In the end, the planet itself had to make the battles stop for good. The planet used the Lifestream as a weapon. And when it burst out of the earth, all the fighting, all the grief and sadness, everything... was washed away. Sadness was the price to see it end. It's been two years since they told me that."

_

It was always glowing softly, the dead thicket of white trees that made up the dense forest of beyond which the also softly glowing Forgotten City was located, each petrified tree wrought with age and the painful memories of the calamity that struck the planet two-thousand years ago. They swayed in the cool wake of the wind that gingerly blew by, as if it were careful not to shake the fragile trees in fear of shattering them into dust. Even so, the frozen white branches shook lightly, rattling against each other.

The moonlight intensified the white shimmering on the skin of petrified plant, giving each individual dead growth an almost ethereal look about it. It was angelic, really, the way that they sparkled with such cold tenderness under the cool gaze of the moon. This chilled, dead, beautiful forest would stand for ages upon ages, should no harm come to its ethereal branches or trunks again.

However, even dark secrets hide under the seemingly nonexistent shadows of the trees, ducking beyond the memories belonging to the past. Such secrets could be tucked away in the green-black grass sparsely growing at the roots of the trees, or even stashed inside an old novel lying about in one of the decaying houses built by an Ancient at the very far north edge of the Sleeping Forest.

But, then again, who would go searching for these secrets? The Forgotten City and the Sleeping Forest were wrought with the damage of the ages and haunted by monsters and creatures such as Boundfats, Trickplays, Malldancers, and Hungrys. The dangers of these alluring sites are countless and without consequence, often overwhelming any poor unsuspecting person or animal and returning them to the Lifestream without a moment's hesitation.

If you think real hard about the threats lurking in the deep of the forest and the city, you wouldn't want to enter. You wouldn't think twice about it, for maybe even you be caught unawares and unprepared in these deadly places, your body a chew toy for the cruel monsters dwelling there. Your blood would splash across the dirt paths and ultimately ruin the already dull glow of the trees and the Forgotten City, smattering the green-black grass and contaminating what little water there was. And every day until your bones were picked clean, a Boundfat, Trickplay, Malldancer, Hungry, or even a Grimguard by chance would bury their teeth into your muscles and insides, chewing away at you and slurping up the mess. You'd probably the poor, innocent, unsuspecting meal they were looking after. Or, maybe, you were trespassing on their territory.

Either way, no matter how you look at it, you could and would be lunch.

Maybe the painful cliches that make up the most courageous of society as we know it, or the most power hungry, would go and search for these secrets and these memories that are so carefully hidden away and guarded by a tough set of monsters. Maybe, perhaps.

But which of these cliches would do it, the power hungry or the courageous, or both?

"I'm too young for this job. I'm too young for this job. I'm too young for this job. I'm too young for this job," Vassal Valentine chanted softly to herself, her voice never reaching a single notch of volume higher than its current hushed whisper. "I'm too young for this job."

She groaned quietly, her Mako blue eyes solemnly staring down at the sleek and yet simple computer keyboard sitting oh-so _alluringly_ on her birch desk, every key uniformly cleaned and straightened. Eventually, the shining orbs switched their gaze from the keyboard to the brightly lit monitor it connected to, a display of names, numbers, dates, and various files of most likely useless information stuck to the screen. She sighed again in defeat. _Only old people should do these awful things on computers._*

A desk job was never exciting, and today, she just so happened to get stuck with one while boss-man Rufus ShinRa was out taking care of some business with Tseng (the director, black-haired and quite full of himself) and Elena (a fiery and very annoying blond coworker). There was no one to keep her company in her hours of boredom at work except for Reno (a womanizing, sweet-talking redhead; he really just is a bit misguided) and Rude (talk about tall, dark, and bald; he's silent but deadly, like a ninja fart), but even then, they weren't anywhere to be found.

_They're probably out getting lunch or something. They always do that... And Reno's so mean! He never brings me anything and he knows I don't get breaks!_ Vassal thought somberly. _And I'm always stuck here by myself...with the faggy work..._

She frowned and closed her eyes, her thin eyebrows creasing together. She was so tired of being left alone with the desk work without a lunch break. Rufus never cut her any slack no matter how hard she worked, no matter how much work she got done, no matter anything. The blond heir to the throne of ShinRa saw fit to give her all the hard desk jobs and never any action or breaks. He was downright mean.

Meanie.

Vassal ran her nimble fingers through the cascade of black hair flowing down her front, playing with the strands of hair that she typically held in a ponytail. She wondered why she was still even a Turk, considering these simple facts. She was always forgotten and always forced to do bullshit work. She frowned.

"So, as I was saying, Rude-" A door swung open and thumped against the wall, a very obnoxious redhead yelling about excitedly as he walked in, his footsteps loud and sloppy.

Vassal popped her Mako eyes open and directed them to the redheaded man with tattoed cheeks and the bald man with dark skin, a frown pulling harder at the corners of her mouth. The mahogany door was shut very carefully and very quietly by the bald man, as if he could tell Vassal was in a bad mood.

"-It's funny how Vash tooootally got the shit job again today, yo. I'm glad I don't have to do 'em anymore, y'know?" Reno blathered on, oblivious to the black-haired woman sitting at the desk he was only just starting to pass.

"I'm sitting right here, y'know," Vassal snapped, her voice thick with irritated venom. She threw her arms around her chest and frowned deeply, even more irritated by the fact she only ever looked like she was pouting when she was angry. And Reno was greatly amused by it, maybe even turned on by the way he spoke to her about it sometimes.

But all the redhead ever did was chase tails and rip off skirts like he was the Big Bad Wolf. _Pfft, more like Big Bad Idiot_, she thought bitterly.

Reno cocked his head over his shoulder to look at her and a wide grin broke across his tattooed face as he stopped. He turned to face her, which revealed a pretty white paper bag stuffed in the crook of his left arm, grease and oil stains smattering the bottom of it. Rude stood beside him, watching the whole thing with a less than interested look, and shook his bald head when Reno opened his mouth. "Sorry, Angelface."

Vassal eyed him between her squinted eyelids, suspicious of his apology. Reno sorry? Please. That's bullshit. Utter bullshit. "You? Sorry? Don't you 'Angelface' me, you prick!" she quipped, shooting the man an incredulous glare.

"But I am sorry, _Angelface_! Why else would I call you that, yo?" he defended, a small, innocent frown playing at his mouth.

"So I won't be mad at you. But it won't work on me! I'm not some dazzled whore off the street!" she yelled triumphantly to Reno, pushing herself up to her feet, her small hands flat and stressed on the surface of her desk.

The redhead didn't say anything for a moment. "But you are my co-worked and I brought you lunch today," he inquired solidly, presenting the greasy bag to her as if it were a precious artifact being sacrificed for the greater good, as if it were a piece of his womanizing soul.

She just stared at him. "Bullshit."

"No, I brought this for you," he breathed, as if it pained him to admit this.

Rude shook his head again and walked away, probably disappointed by this display of idiocy.

Nobody noticed.

Sad face.

"If you really brought it for me, then why do you look like a kicked puppy?" Vassal snipped, crossing her arms over her chest again, frowning a little less. Oh the wonders of the offerings of food.

"Because...it works on other women," Reno explained casually, gasping as Vassal snatched the white bag from him.

"You lying ass! This was _your_ lunch, wasn't it?"

He nodded pathetically.

"Idiot," she muttered, plopping into her padded leather chair with the bag plastered to her hands. Her stomach growled with mild enthusiasm as she breathed in the beautiful aroma of fried potatoes and quite possibly a cheeseburger. Her favorite type of meal. Greasy as fuck.

She groaned as her stomach growled again.

Reno smiled toothily, shoving his hands into his disheveled pants. "I got your favorite," he beamed, spinning on his heals and heading to the desk directly across from hers - his own.

"Stupid...man..." Vassal grumbled, promptly stuffing her face with mouthwatering deliciousness courtesy OF the _stupid...man_.

"Any time, Vash!"

And so, without further ado, the mahogany door opened yet again.

***What she's talking about and what's on the screen is pretty much old accounts from earlier on in ShinRa Electric Power Company's (S.E.P.C.) history. Hahahahahahaha, she's stuck with accounting. xD**


	2. Super Bar

**A/N:: This chapter was a bit…odd to right. Not because of her interactions with Reno (sexy beast *drool*), but because of her thought processes. I dunno. It was just a little weird.**

Vassal Valentine drew her Mako blue eyes away from the bright screen displaying numbers and places, deaths and types of monsters one so typically fought when strolling into a normally uninhabited area, fidgeting uncomfortably in her puffy leather chair, greasy white bag and delicious meal all but forgotten. It's been ten whole minutes since Rufus returned to the office, since he returned to the Turks, since he declared that Vassal wouldn't ever be able to leave the office for field work.

Ten minutes.

His voice had been very relaxed, never going above normal, but not in a comforting way. In fact, strict laces of evil strictness and finality intertwined with that relaxed tone. It was as if he had finally been able to get this simple fact off of his chest and he seemed to be damn proud of it. He hadn't spared Vassal even a single glance (what with them being permanently transfixed on Reno's less than interested face), nor did he even give the go ahead for her to a speak, a slim crooked finger pressed to his thin lips whenever he even thought she opened her mouth.

After the small, commanding string of sentences, he smiled a small wicked smile and gingerly padded off to his own office, briskly flipping over Vassal's pen and pencil holders out of blatant spite.

And it was so painfully _awkward_ for her to push herself to her feet, crouch down, and retrieve every last colored pen or mechanical pencil, all eyes (shaded or not, male or not) pinpointing and focusing in on her bent head. She could feel their gazes as if they were Materia enhanced beams of fire scorching her head. The shock of her boss telling her that she'd never get the opportunity to do field work hung thick in her mind, weighing her down like a million pounds on one scrawny little man, and she returned to her desk, setting each holder in its previous spot, adjusting each pen to have everything go back to normal. Her eyes had found the screen and her fingers had found the keyboard and mouse, clicking and tapping away at her work.

Now, however, Vassal bit her lip, shaking her head to clear it of this awful occurrence from ten minutes ago, and she peered around her monitor at Reno, who was laid back in his chair lazily with his own eyes on his _own_ screen. She scowled at him, noticing a smug grin twist at his lips, and listened with irritation as he clicked multiple times in rapid succession. He was _such_ a _child_ sometimes...

It was then that she silently reached over, pinkie outstretched, and snatched up a purple pen, only to quickly chuck it at the obnoxious redhead. She watched the pen with narrowed eyes as it narrowly missed the tip of Reno's perfect nose, smacking right into the wall next to his desk with a small _thwack_.

Which was strange because pens didn't typically make that sound when they were thrown across a room.

She groaned in defeat.

Reno grinned triumphantly, turning to face her fully, a tongue snaking out to further tease the poor black-haired girl. He clicked a good several more times before finally getting bored and pointing his blue-grey eyes at Vassal, his signature grin locked in place.

"So, _Angelface_," he began, taking in a cool breath.

She didn't even have to think about her answer or what he was going to ask before she irately growled and snapped out, "No."

"But-"

"No."

"C'mon, Vash-"

"No."

"Vassal-"

"I said no, dammit!" she quipped, crossing her arms over her chest, tightly shutting her blue eyes, brows furrowed. She wouldn't put up with his crap a moment longer, especially after what just happened a mere thirteen minutes ago. She fully believed that Reno got her lunch to keep her at this desk for the rest of her days here at ShinRa Corp. It was his fault she would forever work a desk job, his fault that she would never get to see action, his fault that she would never be able to go out and explore and fight for _no goddamn reason_.

The aforementioned redhead gave an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "All I wanted to do was take you out later after work as an apology..." he muttered softly, pleadingly almost.

But Vassal knew better. He was bullshitting her. _Again_. And he had the _nerve_, the _balls_, to do it _again_.

"No. You'll only get me in trouble again," she huffed in response to his plea.

"No, I won't. I'll prove it to you. Just please, go out with me this one time," Reno begged, his eyes catching Vassal's once more as she reopened them.

Reno never begged for anything. She gave a small 'hmph'.

She didn't see anything too suspicious springing about in his cool grey-blue orbs, nor did she sense anything even remotely off in his tone of voice. But did he really mean it? How could he, if he did? Reno has always been and always will be a weasel and womanizer, never taking into account how women feel. At least, beyond the physical aspect of feeling anyway. He's never tried to settle down with anyone ever and he doesn't seem to ever want to either. He was just that stupid Big Bad Wolf that ripped girls' skirts off without a moment's hesitation. He'd lie to get what he wanted, at any given opportunity, hit it and quit it.

That's all he was. An asshole.

Vash didn't care too much about the physical part, but what he constantly did was still at the front of her mind. He had no regard for women's feelings. None. Zip. Nada.

But, on the other hand, what would be the harm in going out after work with a friend, much less a co-worker?

She frowned minutely and relaxed her arms, letting them fall to her desk beside her keyboard, and averted her gaze from Reno's sticky and entrancing eyes, a sigh leaving the gap between her lips. "Okay," she muttered, defeated.

"Yay!" Reno beamed, his arms up in the air as if he were an excited child, his eyes glowing with mild happiness.

"Don't get too excited," Vassal snapped, her eyes finding their way back to Reno's. "Even if you do stay true to your word, that doesn't mean you'll get any kind of... _reward_."

A perverted grin eased its way across his face.

"Now who said anything about that?" he snickered, his hair bouncing this way and that with each convulsion.

"I-You-Ugh!" she spluttered, defeated yet again.

It was eight in the pee-em, an hour after work, and Vassal was working her way down one of the main streets in Edge, her heeled feet gingerly tapping on the dark cement. Her eyes flitted about, tracing the outlines of construction cranes dotting the city and very sadly rolling over the children and even adults that were still infected with the Geostigma.

She sighed softly, picking up her pace and walking past each child or adult. It wasn't that she didn't want to help them. It was just that she couldn't.

After the calamity caused by Jenova many years ago, she too had been infected with the Geostigma. Luckily enough for her, it didn't act up too often. She didn't have to feel the pain every day or every week. Sometimes, she didn't feel it for a month or so. But just because she couldn't feel it doesn't mean that it wasn't there.

The stigma was always right there, burning blacker, digging deeper into her skin and muscles and lungs. It was always there, ready to pounce when she was under a shit ton of stress. It was never going to go away. It was always stretching further up and down her right side, widening. It was always there.

The pain of seeing children still suffering with the stigma pained her greatly, even more than the stigma itself whenever it decided to stab her in the side. It was all just a constant reminder that no matter what anyone did, no matter what anyone tried to do, the children would always be the first ones to suffer and for the longest.

Vassal sighed quietly, soon finding herself at the door to 7th Heaven, a bar run by Tifa Lockhart and the place Reno had instructed her to meet him at. She stared at the rusty-looking grey door and hesitated, her Mako blue eyes opening and closing rapidly, her heart beating a little on the quick side. Pressing a hand to the cool metal door and wrapping her other around the handle, she pushed it open and stumbled into the less than busy bar.

A breath escaped the gap between her lips when she looked about the bar for that idiotic redhead. Many a pair of eyes were locked onto her, and none of them were in the least bit friendly. She gulped, her eyes flitting from the dull checkered floor to the black-haired bartender busily wiping off a fresh tall glass. The woman, Tifa Lockhart, momentarily glance up from her work and spared Vassal a small glance and even a small smile, a thin finger pointing to the far side of the bar.

With a tiny nod, Vassal breathed a sigh of relief, padding cautiously off in the direction Tifa indicated Reno was in. However, her caution went hand-in-hand with consequence. As she scuttled along, searching for her co-worker, a scruffy hand latched itself to her black skirt and tugged at it, pulling it down just enough for her panties to be seen.

She yelped loudly and nearly jumped out of her skin, scrambling to get away from whoever had grabbed at her skirt. She found herself latching onto the back of a chair three tables away from the person that touched her, shaking and shivering with pure fear.

Vassal had never been to a bar at night before. She didn't know who attended bars. She didn't know what kinds of people even thought about going to a bar. She never knew anyone that went, except for Reno (but he doesn't count). She'd never encountered a drunk in her whole life.

Ever.

So this whole experience was a frightening and very new thing to her, especially when random men were reaching out and playing with her work skirt. She huffed and frowned, her grip around one of the rungs on the back of the chair tightening considerably. She'd never been touched in such a way.

And then another hand worked its way around her right shoulder, its grip soft and almost soothing. But that didn't stop Vassal from releasing another harsh yelp and falling unceremoniously from the chair she hid herself away on. She groaned, biting her lip with the growing fear that she would be fondled again.

"Jeeze, Vash," Reno's familiar voice echoed softly in her ear. "What's your problem?"

Immediately, she pushed herself to her feet and threw her arms around the redhead's neck, grateful that he was here. She buried her face in his chest and huffed, eliciting many soft breaths.

"Hey, Angelface. What's eatin' you?" he questioned again, voice a bit more concerned and less playful. "Are you okay? C'mon, speak to me."

She slid her head up to look at him, eyes wide with fear, and opened her mouth to admit that she was scared.

Reno smiled reassuringly and wrapped his arms around her hips, shaking his head with mild amusement. In fact, he chuckled lightly, his hair bouncing with each shake of his head. "Hey, don't worry. Reno's here to protect yah!"

"Alright..." she mumbled, letting go of the older man, who let go of her as soon as she did him. "Where's your table?" she asked, her Mako blue eyes scanning the booths and tables full of whack jobs and weirdos. That's what she decided bars were full of. Whack jobs and weirdos.

He grinned. "Follow me." He stepped away and off in the direction of a small, two-person booth, turning to signal for Vassal to follow, making his request a redundant one. But she followed him anyway without protest, hoping to the gods that no one would reach out and grab her again.

Reno plopped down in his seat and smiled when Vassal plopped down into hers. "So, Vash, whatcha want to drink?"

She blinked at him. What kind of question was that? "Dude, I'm nineteen."

"Oh...right. Well, still. Tifa doesn't _just_ have alcohol. She's got milk and different sodas and water, yo."

"I just want some water," she snipped.

"Okay, okay. Jeeze." He sighed and threw an arm up, yelling out for the bartender. "Yo! Tifa, can we get some water over here?"

"Sure!" she called back. The sound of ice clinking against glass could be heard.

Vassal was silent for a moment, taking in the smells of the bar. There were only a few scents in the air: cleaning product (probably Pine Sol), alcohol, and sweat. The way they mixed wasn't exactly the most pleasant one, what with the fact that when they all collided and combined it smelled more like infection than anything else. She frowned.

"Hey, Reno?" she inquired, staring at a coaster that advertised for some kind of foreign liquor. This place irritated her.

"Yeeeeeees, Angelface?" he cooed in reply.

"How can you stand it here?"

A pause.

"Well, let me be honest here. I like alcohol. Y'know, like whiskey and vodka."

"That doesn't answer my question _at all_, stupid!" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and putting up that oh-so familiar irritated face she threw on much earlier on in the day when Reno passed her by, talking shit.

He only shrugged. He obviously wasn't going to offer her any more of an explanation than that.

"I mean, it's smelly in here and men look at me and touch me weird, so I can't stand it," she babbled on, not noticing when Tifa had marched up and gently placed a tall glass of ice water right on the coaster she had been staring at. "It's so grimy and creepy..."

Reno grinned. "Go to any other bar and you're sure to find the same thing." He nodded his thanks to Tifa and the woman quietly stalked away to the bar.

"Still."

"Hey, there's no still about it. All bars are gross and full of men that are one-hundred-percent willing to jump you at any moment."

"That doesn't help."

Reno chuckled. "I know, yo."

"Ugh. You're an ass."

"I know." It seemed that even his smiles leaked into his voice.

Vassal blinked at the glass that replaced the image of the foreign liquor. Beads of perspiration slid down the cold glass and the ice inside crackled and shifted, bubbles escaping to the top of the water. She reached for the glass and blinked when her fingers touched at how cold it was, water spilling around her hand from the sides of the glass. Without so much as another thought, she lifted the glass and tipped it against the gap between her lips and eagerly sucked down the freezing cold water, slamming the glass back down on the table.

"Wow."

"Don't wow me. I was thirsty."

"I could've given you something better to drink. Duh-dum ching," Reno joked, snickering at Vassal.

"You're such a pervert," she quipped, glaring at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Wait till you get me in the sack. Then the _real_ pervert comes out to play."

"Ew."

"Don't disregard my humor!" he whined, his fingers tapping disappointedly on the edge of the dull grey table.

"But it's not funny... It's gross."

"Butbutbutbutbut..."

"I'm gonna leave." Vassal stared at the redhead for a long moment, her expression a mix of disgust and amusement. Really, he was an idiot and a pervert. But if he wasn't, he wouldn't be Reno anymore. He'd be boring. He woudl be your average person with no flavor and no flare. He'd be _boring_. As in the exact opposite of himself. Which is boring.

"Aww, c'mon, Vash. Don't leave me now," he pleaded much like he did earlier on in the day. "I'll be lonely."

"So? I wanna go home."

"Butbutbutbutbut..."

"No buts."

She slid from her side of the booth and gave the older redhead a small smile and waved to him, reworking her way down the treacherous path between tables and creepy people to the door, which she pushed open effortlessly. Stepping out onto the street, she let out a soft sigh and began her trek home, slipping under street lamps every chance she got.

She didn't get but a block down the street before a silver head of hair caught her attention.


	3. Hesitate

**A/N:: This chapter is short for a reason. I can't write anymore. . I don't know how to make these two interact. I really don't. Leave me a review for help? Suggestions!**

There were many negative ideas that all simultaneously popped into Vassal's mind as she eyed this silver-haired man staring almost cruelly into a shop window (who bared a strange resemblence to a Remnant of Sephiroth) from the safety of a streetlight across the street from him. In fact, all of these simple, negative thoughts were all reminiscent of the bane of the Planet: Jenova, Sephiroth, and the Remnants, all of which tried in vain to destroy everything while using the Geostigma to their advantages. They almost succeeded too. Almost. But not quite. When all seemed lost, Cloud Strife and many others rushed to save the day, making quick work of the final battles.

It wasn't something she liked to think about. Too many innocent people had been lost since the very moment Jenova crash-landed in the north. Still, even to this day, even with the Great Gospel of Aerith's cast, children and adults are still suffering. All because of Jenova and people like Shinra and Sephiroth and Hojo. _All this pain and sadness for power and revenge..._, she snarled inwardly.

She shifted under the light scrutiny of the street lamp, refocusing her blue eyes on the silver-haired man. He hadn't moved since she started thinking, which is good, she supposed. The further away he was from her, the less danger she was in. At least, that's what she thought.

The man looked too much like Kadaj.

She had to strain her eyes just a tad to see even a small bit of his detail. His hair was short, only reaching his shoulders and layed over his right eye (rather than his left, which was how Kadaj held his hair) and he wore black. Black _leather_, to be precise. A short blade, something between a tanto and a katana, was strapped to his hip in a black sheath. His face was angular, jaw set, and his lips were thin and a shade darker than his light skin. His eyes were almond shaped and his irises were very round. But...they were also intensely blue, as if he had been relentlessly Mako-treated many times over. His pupils were nothing short of a cat's slit ones, thin and wrought with a sadness and anger not seen in even the most vengeful of people's eyes. They were frightening.

Everything about the way he stood was a clear indication that the emotions brewing in his eyes were true and ever-intensifying. He slumped with a lie that he was better, arms crossed with fake superiority, legs apart and level with his shoulders as if he were ready for...something.

Vassal couldn't help but continue staring at this near twin of Kadaj, indulge herself in his pretentious stance and his emotions. He seemed so lost.

She blinked and sighed quietly, thinking it may just be a coincedence that there was a look-alike of Kadaj. After all, everyone has their own twin, related or not. Maybe he wasn't at all like Kadaj, anyway. Perhaps he was even normal.

Whatever the case, it didn't really matter so long as this man wasn't up to any trouble. Right? Right.

But who was there to make sure? Anyone?

She drew in a cold breath and gulped. Yes. There was someone that could go and check. After all, as Turk, wasn't her responsibility to keep...order and arrest or kill suspicious persons? Yes. It was. Did she want to?

No.

Did she have to?

Yes.

Vassal's lips curved into a deep frown as she debated, not at all taking notice of the silver-haired man's sudden decision to move.

To make sure or to not make sure? That is the question, indeed.


	4. Rufus Lied

Mako blue eyes gazed blankly through the double-paned window, focused solely on the break between a set of fluffy and ominously dark clouds. The weather was overcast with winds going at forty-seven miles-per-hour, cloud breaks here and there, and a chance for rain. The air was oddly humid (eighty-two percent), more so than the typical humidity (forty-one percent), making the temperatures skyrocket from average sixty-three to a hundred degrees.

The sun's rays shone through the breaks in the clouds, gracing the rebuilding city of Edge and all its remaining sufferers of Geostigma and normal people with heated light. All caught in the rays were forced inside to even hotter rooms and restaurants, seeing as how it was simply just too hot and heavy outside, seeing as how it was just too crowded and uncomfortable and smelly inside. Yowls of complaints would certainly fill the streets by early to mid-afternoon, disapproval and irritation filling the townspeople's voices. Screams might follow as some die of heat stroke due to lack of proper air conditioning, some might faint, and many will just be burdened with cleaning of the messes.

But that isn't quite what Vassal is observing.

She could see the dim street she spotted that silver-haired man at a day earlier, but there was no one standing before that empty shop window. She didn't know why he was there - whether or not his presence was of ill-nature or if he was just _there_. She didn't know if he'd seen her. All she knew was that he left before she decided on what she was going to do (observe).

That irritated her. She wanted to know more about him, know and understand what he was standing there (alone) for, prick at his brain for information, dig deeper, so that she could benefit the ShinRa Electric Power Company and protect it, as she was so hired to do. She wanted to prove to Rufus Shinra that she was as good a Turk as Tseng, Elena, Rude, and Reno. She wanted to prove that she was more than just the new girl. Not only that, but it was her duty to scope out strange and dark characters.

But the man _got away_. He slipped through her nimble fingers as she made her final decision and now, he was nowhere to be found. She couldn't pump him for information. She couldn't _know anything_. She failed in carrying out her sworn duties.

And the worst part was Rufus wasn't sending her out on any missions. Ever.

Vassal let out a light sigh of mild irritation, rolling her shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest, as if to express the very self-annoyance she was feeling. She scowled minutely and pressed her forehead against the cool window, glaring at the swarms of people dashing to get inside places that might be air conditioned.

"Angelface, you're gonna have to stop brooding, y'know," Reno muttered, crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned back in his rolling, black leather chair. "I mean, Edge may be a big…er, town, but you'll most likely see that guy again. After all, you did say he looked to be a troublemaker. There's a high chance that maybe Shinra'll give us a field mission if he _does _start trouble."

The word _mission _rang in her ears with Rufus' distaste of her, rattling around in her brain and repeating itself over and over. She pried herself away from the cold of the window and turned on her pointed toes, slamming her back right against the glass. Tightening her crossed arms, she shot her intense glare to the redhead, her eyes a pair of daggers cutting away at the man's face.

"Are you an idiot, Reno?" she snapped viciously.

"No! I'm just trying to-" She cut him off.

"I don't _get _to go on field missions. Shinra forbade me to do so! _You _get to go on missions while I sit here and fill out meaningless paperwork and organize files and…go through fucking _accounts_! _You _get to play with weapons and kill bad people and experience high levels of excitement while I sit here and do next to absolutely fucking _nothing_!"

Vassal was seething by this point, her chest heaving as she breathed after having screeched out all her frustration. She huffed and puffed, glaring at the speechless (for once) redhead, her body tense. She wanted to go out and prove herself, to travel, to do the dirty work, to kill bad people with her partners, play with weapons, fly helicopters, experience dangers of all shapes and sizes, and _prove herself_.

"I don't get to see what you see, to do what you do, Reno. It makes me uncomfortable. It makes me feel like I'm just the helpless new girl," she mumbled, her expression softening. Once she caught her breath, she made a slow beeline for her desk, plopping unceremoniously into the rolling, black leather chair. Her eyes downcast, she avoided Reno's face, she stared only at her white keyboard.

"Listen, Vash, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings…" he said softly, pushing himself up to his feet and shuffling over to her desk. "I was just sayin'."

"I know, Reno," she grumbled.

"Hey, maybe the boss-man'll lighten up and throw you a mission?"

"Not likely. C'mon, Reno. You've been here longer than I have. Cut the crap."

"Yeah, yeah. In all reality, he won't throw you a bone because he's a sadistic fuck. He knows it bothers you and he likes to see people scramble in all their irritation and depression and shit." Reno shook his red head and shrugged, leaning against Vassal's desk. "He takes joy in seeing others suffer, yo."

Vassal nodded in agreement, closing her eyes and sitting up in her chair. Planting both elbows on her desk, she leaned in a bit closer. If the man continued to talk as loudly and as unprofessionally as this, they'd both get stuck with a night shift and extra work to do. "Hey, keep it down, will you?"

He grinned.

"Eh, sure." His head bobbed and he shrugged again, looking down at his coworker. She returned his glance, only to notice that his Cheshire grin hadn't left his lips.

"We'll get in trouble, you idiot."

"As long as Angelface gets a job, what fucks do I give?"

She blinked, furrowed her brows, and recoiled, retreating to the back of her black chair. He wasn't going to stop being an idiot until she got a decent field mission? As nice and sweet as it may have sounded, he was basically risking his own job. That's something Reno wouldn't do for just anybody. And what was up with his language today? Vassal stared at him, utterly confused.

Before the man could say anything more, a door clicked open and a sly Rufus slid out of his office and worked his way towards them with his signature swagger, a manila file in tow. His blond hair swayed as he did, complimenting his ratty face. He wasn't the most attractive man in the world, and now that Vassal knew he was as sadistic as he was, she couldn't help but picture him with a whip in his hands rather than a file, a spiked collar around his neck rather than his bandages, and a latex body suit rather than his white suit. She twitched.

The idea was simply too twisted to delve into.

When [s]latex-clad[/s] Rufus reached her desk, he shooed Reno aside and slammed the [s]whip[/s] manila file down. A wicked grin spread across that twisted rat face of his.

"Faunus. Seven murders. Cosmo Canyon. Everything you need to know is in that file. Take Reno." The man kept it short and simple, leaving out all real hints of danger, and he returned to his office without another word.

"See? What'd I tell you, Angelface?" Reno smiled, the action presenting crow's feet to the corners of his eyes.

Vassal barely had any time to think about it, much less what had just been said. She let out a solid huff and thumbed the corner of the file, gently opening it and revealing its contents. Her heart was beating at a hard and steady pace, her lungs executing subtle breaths, and her lips quivering with the rest of her trembling body.

She had a mission.

She had a mission to capture that silver-haired man.

A quick intake of breath, her nerves settled down, and she thrust herself up to her feet in outrage. "Rufus Shinra, you fucking liar!"


End file.
